


The (Non) Adventures of Alexander Braginski-Jones

by magicandlight



Series: The States [22]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alaska is lovable, America doesn't know when to quit, Gen, General Winter actually adores his "children", Russia is a good parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:58:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicandlight/pseuds/magicandlight
Summary: First- America refuses to believe there isn't a personification for Alaska.Later- Russia learns he shares more than a Cold War with America.





	The (Non) Adventures of Alexander Braginski-Jones

**Winter,** **1865**  
**Alaska**  
The boy never shivered. They had seen him before, wandering among the wolves, who seemingly accepted his presence. (A man had once reached for the child. A wolf had moved in front of him and snarled.)

Amaruq, the women whispered as he passed by.  _Grey wolf._

The boy's eyes gleamed a dark violet under pale hair. Some of Inuit wondered if this boy was a spirit, for even the most weather hardened men, shivered occasionally, and this child did not seem to age. Some dared to say he was blessed by Amarok, the wolf god.

He spoke the language haltingly, like he was used to speaking something else.

A year later, the boy left.

 **June 12, 1867**  
**Alaska**  
Alfred couldn't find the personification of Alaska.

The government had bought the land, but America couldn't find the kid who would represent it.

Canada had tried to help, asking the teen who represented the Northwest Territories to help him look for Alaska.

The Northwest Territories couldn't find him, even with the uncanny ability states and provinces had to sense each other.

In the end, he went home, disappointed, without Alaska.

 **Winter, 1869**  
**Alaska**  
Alaska has never been so cold.

His fingertips are going black.

He is so  _cold_.   
\---------  
" _Privet, Alyaska_." A man in a military uniform says as some of the pain fades.

Alaska tries to speak. He fails.

"I am General Winter." The man says.

 **Early Spring, 1870**  
**Alaska**  
General Winter has never been greeted so warmly.

The boy- Alaska- is a bright, happy child, with silvery hair that reminds Winter of the three nations to the West.

He had expected the boy to shun him after he had sped the hypothermia process.

Yet, the child thanks him. Thanks him for easing his pain.

(It wasn't the first time the child froze to death, Winter concludes.)

They are more children- children the red-haired girl had made him promise to never speak of to the nations who did not know. Winter knew the girl had looped magic into his vow, but he would have kept the promise anyway.

Winter cannot help but come when Alaska calls him.

He cannot help but come when any of his children call on him.

 **September 13, 1912**  
**The Territory of Alaska**  
After Alaska was named a territory, America tried to find them again.

He came home, again, without the kid.  
\--------  
"Have you considered that there isn't an Alaska?" Sera asks.

"There has to be."

"But you can't sense him, and you can't find him."

"There is an Alaska."

 **January 4, 1930**  
**Alaska**  
Alaska runs with the wolves.

If he can't find wolves, then he runs with the foxes, or plays with the deers and moose and caribou.

Sometimes he ventures towards the coast to swim with the seals and sea lions. Occasionally, he'll meet a dolphin if he travels far enough south. He likes the whales better, though.

Sometimes, he goes north to play with the polar bears. The people warn him about them, but Alaska doesn't see why. The mother bears always seem to like him best.

 **January 5, 1959**  
**Anchorage, Alaska**  
Alfred F. Jones shivered as he walked down the streets of Alaska's capital. He was looking for his now youngest child (The Northern Mariana Islands had joined his ragtag family as a territory in 1947, making her the former youngest.)

He'd already searched Juneau. If he didn't find the kid here, he would have to go to Fairbanks.

And suddenly there was a child in front of him. America stopped, looking down.

This was definitely Alaska. He had Russia's coloring, white blonde hair and violet eyes, but Alfred's nose and jaw. Alaska looked young, around six or seven.

"America, right?" Alaska asked in Russian. "I belong to you?"

America hated that phrase. It had been used a lot during the war-that-shall-not-be-named: " _They belong to you, can't you do something to control them? Can't you make them stay_?" America knelt and answered back in Russian. "You're a state now." America almost winced. ( _You're a state now_ , he had told a Kansas with a newly scarred face.  _You're a state now_ , he had told a bright-eyed Nevada, only days before he ran off to join to the Union Army.) "You have a lot of brothers and sisters that can't wait to meet you." America added.

Alaska knitted his pale eyebrows together. "I have brothers and sisters?" This he said in English. So he did speak it. This was good- Flora had barely spoken a lick of English when he got her.

America nodded. "I'm going to bring you home so you can meet them, but first I'm going to take you to see your new uncle, okay?"

"Okay."

America picked up the small personification and put him on his hip- like he had done for Charlie and Callie and Addison and Corey and his dear, dear Originals before that.

 **January 8, 1959**  
**Toronto, Canada**  
Alfred laid the currently asleep boy down Matt's couch.

Matt watched. "He looks a lot like Russia." He stated. Alaska's pale hair was spread out around his head like a halo, and Alfred brushed it away.

Alfred nodded as he ran a hand through his own hair. "He does."

"He looks kinda like you, too." Matt pointed out. "Wonder what the others will think of him."

"Isa will be thrilled to not be the baby of the family anymore."

Matt shook his head. "No, I mean, you're in the middle of a Cold War with Russia, and the kid looks like him. I doubt they're going to be pleased. You said he spoke Russian, too, right?"

"It doesn't matter. Alaska's a state, not a Russian territory." Alfred answered back.

"I'm just warning you, Al."

Alfred closed his eyes. "I know."

 **January 9, 1959**  
**Virginia**  
Alaska was looking up at the house like it was a monster about to eat him. America smiled reassuringly when he looked towards him.

"Dad!" Isa barreled out of the house and threw her arms around America. Never doubting he wouldn't catch her. Then she noticed the boy awkwardly shifting from foot to foot beside him.

Isa peeled herself away from her father and stuck out her hand diplomatically.

"Hello, I'm Isabel Jones, the Northern Mariana Islands! Everyone calls me Isa." She said it in one breath.

Alaska took her hand and shook it lightly. "Alaska. Are you a state, too?"

"No, but I am a United States Territory!" Isa grabbed Alaska's wrist and pulled him towards the door.

"Come on, everyone's waiting to meet you!" Isa tended to end things in exclamation points.   
\-----------  
Most of the United States was in the living room when America and Alaska arrived.

Brooke took one look at Alaska. "Alexander." She said. Alaska had violet eyes. He should have known Brooke would go there.

Everyone froze. "What?" America asked, even though he knew she was naming him.

"Alexander Jones. Sasha for short."

Alaska smiled. "I like it."

Brooke knelt in front of Alexander and held out her hand. "Privet."  _Hi._  
\---------  
That night, Alexander slept in Lani's room. He had a feeling Lani had gone and told Sera about his issue with the room being white, how it reminded him of snowstorms.

Sasha liked Sera. Her hair was a really pretty color and she was nice.

They were all very nice. Brooke had ruffled his hair, before she left, William with her.

 **November 16, 1983**  
**Alexandria, Virginia**  
"We're heading out, guys!" Brooke called as she descended the stairs, her suitcase in tow. Will followed, with his own bags.

"Wait! Wait!" Sasha practically screamed as he barreled down the stairs.

Brooke and Will exchanged looks.

"What is it, Kid?" Will asked as he ruffled Sasha's hair.

"I want to go with you. I want to see my Dad."

"Kid, Dad will be back in a few days. It's just a world meeting-" Brooke explained

"My other Dad." The words "other" and "Dad" were dangerous when used in conjunction. They could make Scott angry, they could sometimes push Flora into one of her anxiety attacks, they could make Monty freeze up, or cause Sam to go on a rant about never claiming England.

Brooke stopped. "You- you want to meet Russia?" She whispered hoarsely.

Will's eyes were wide.

Sasha nodded. "Russia will be in New York for the same world meeting as dad, right?"

"Yes, but-"

Sasha looked at Brooke with pleading eyes. "Please. Please, Brooke? Please?"

That was a dirty trick and Alexander knew it. Everyone knew Brooke loved children. Everyone knew, just like all personifications, that she was both barren and immortal, and so she had to settle for siblings and volunteering.

Brooke's eyes softened. "If you're ready in ten minutes you can come."

 **November 17, 1983**  
**New York, New York**  
Sasha stared at the skyline. "It's so big." He whispered. Brooke laughed.

"I forgot you'd never seen New York before." She said. "Maybe I'll take you to see the Statue of Liberty, later."

"What are those?" Sasha asked in awe.

Brooke turned to see what he was looking at. "Those are the twin towers."

"What're they for?"

"That would be the World Trade Center." Brooke answered.

"They're huge." Sasha said in awe.

William started laughing. "Tallest in the city."  
\-----------  
At the same time that the three states were arriving at Brooke's loft in East Village, a fight was breaking out between the nations in the UN building.

France and England were rolling around on the floor trying to hit each other, Hungary was smashing her frying pan over Prussia's head, and America and Russia were glaring at each other.

"EVERYONE STOP!" Germany yelled. Then he sighed. "Lunch Break, then thirty minutes before we end for the day."

The nations wasted no time in scattering.  
\-----------  
It really wasn't Brooke and Will's fault he snuck out.

He had very good navigational skills, and he knew that if he went north on 1st Avenue past 42nd Street and turned into the United Nations Plaza and get there.

He knew that he could run faster than most of his siblings.

He knew it was about two miles, and that the average, in-shape human took anywhere from seven to ten minutes to run a mile.

And he knew he was faster than the average human.   
\------------  
Russia was leaving the conference when a child ran into him and stumbled.

He had on a navy beanie hat that covered his hair on, and his black coat was buttoned up, and he was panting.

Russia moved around the child with a muttered "Watch where you're going."

"Wait!" The child yelled as Russia walked away.

Russia raised an eyebrow as he turned around.

And came face to face with violet eyes.

The child looked at him. "I'm- My name's Alexander- Alexander Jones, actually, and I- I'm Alaska." The violet eyed child said.   
\------------  
America was leaning against the counter of his favorite cafe, about to order when Brooke and Will came in.

He took one look at his daughter's frantic eyes and panicked face and turned and left.

"What?" Alfred asked her.  _Was there another Cuban Missile Crisis?_

"I'm- It's all my fault- I'm so sorry- I lost him- It's my fault-" She stumbled through her sentence. For the first time in a very long time, Alfred thought she was going to cry.

"Slow down. Who's lost?" Alfred asked.

Will rubbed Brooke's back. She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Sasha wanted to meet Russia. We brought him up here, but we were going to wait until you got out of the meetings to see if you could talk him out of it. He snuck out and I know he went to see Russia but the UN won't let us in because we don't have our badges and all the other nations have left."

Alfred's blood ran cold. "Sasha's in the UN building? Is Russia there?"

Brooke didn't answer. Alfred knew she could tell if he was or not. This was her land, and he was a foreign nation. "Brooke."

"Yes."

Alfred's heart stopped. "Sasha- Sasha is alone with Russia?" Sasha, his sweet, kind-hearted boy, was alone with Russia?

When Brooke nodded, Alfred took off.   
\------------  
The UN Nations security did not try to stop America or the two teenagers this time.

Eventually, they stopped in front of the open conference room doors. Russia and Alaska appeared to be talking.

Pennsylvania scurried in and picked Sasha up, tossing him over his shoulder. Will knew Brooke was stronger than him- strong enough to rival empires. He knew America was stronger. He was out of the room before anyone could blink.

Russia raised an eyebrow and turned to America. "It's rude to interrupt, da?" He stood up to his full height. Maybe it might have been intimidating to someone else, but New York wore heels. Very high heels.

"You  _bastard_." America answered as he stepped in front of Russia.

Russia tilted his head to the side. "Little  _Alyaska_ is very smart, isn't he?"

America eyes blazed. "You leave Alaska alone."

"It would be so easy just to- take him back, da?"

America snarled, but he wasn't the one who shoved Russia back.

New York bared her teeth. "If you ever, ever even  _joke_ about taking Alaska back again, I swear to  _god_  I will put bullets in your kneecaps."

Russia's eyes hardened and he straightened. He towered over New York, who did not flinch. "You don't scare me, and neither do your threa-"

Brooke brought her knee up into Russia's groin. When he doubled over, Brooke gave him a left hook to the jaw. There was a wet snap and then a sickening crunch. Russia didn't have a chance to react before she swept his feet out from under him and knocked the air out of his lungs further with a swift punch to his solar plexus.

Russia laid on the floor on his back, trying to get his breath back.

New York leaned over him, black hair falling over her shoulders. "I learned that trick from a female  _Russian_  fighter pilot in WW2." She said with a smile like a hollow point bullet. "And goddamn right, you should be scared of me and my threats."

Russia gasped again. He was fairly sure this girl had just broken his jaw.

After he had gotten his breath back, the state pulled him up by his wrist.

Brooke went over to the conference table and grabbed a stray notepad. She scribbled something on it and held it out towards Russia.

"This is  _my_  address. Alexander will be there tomorrow. You may stop by after the meeting tomorrow. You  _will not_  bring anything that could be considered a weapon. You  _will not_ attempt to harm my brother in any way, and I swear to god there will be hell to pay if you do." New York smiled, and it was all the more terrifying for its cheerfulness. "Goodbye!" She chirped.

Both Russia and America stared after the black-haired state: America with pride, and Russia with fear.

 **November 18, 1983**  
**New York, New York**  
Russia paced on the doorstep of an East Village building before finally hitting the buzzer.

"Yes?" A young man answered. Russia frowned. Had New York given him a fake address?

"Is this the residence of Brooke Jones?" Russia asked

"Yeah. And you would be..."

"Ivan Braginski, I'm here to see Alexander?"

"Ohh, Brooke said you might be coming, I'll buzz you up."   
\------------  
New York answered the door and held it open silently. She was barefoot and her denim shorts and tank top were covered in paint, much like her tan, calloused, scarred hands.

Her knuckles were bruised from where she had hit him.

A boy with messy blonde hair poked his head around the corner. "Yo." He offered as greeting. That had to be the boy who buzzed him up, Russia thought.

"Alexander's in the living room." Brooke offered. She was eyeing the large black-blue bruise on his jaw with something like satisfaction.

Brooke lead the Nation down the hallway and into a living room that was dominated by dark leather couches. A boy was curled up on one with a book and a sulky expression.

The blonde boy flopped down on one. The boy sitting on the one across from it shifted his gaze from his book to New York, and then to Russia, where it froze.

Alaska's eyes were wide.

Russia stumbled back a step when Alaska threw himself at him.

Alaska started babbling in Russian, and it took Russia a second to realize New York was answering him back in it.

Perfect, natural, fluent Russian.

He stared at her. New York shrugged.

"Highest population of Russian immigrants in the United States and I don't have an official language."

Alexander beamed up at Russia.

 **November 24, 1983**  
**Virginia**  
Russia had sat with Alaska and talked and talked and talked. Somehow, during the talking, he had been invited to Thanksgiving, an honor not even England or France were given. (But somehow Prussia and Mexico were?)

When Russia knocked on the door of America's Virginia house, a red-haired girl answered. She looked at Russia contemplatively.

"How did you get your boss to agree to this?" She asked curiously. She looked about sixteen, with pale blue eyes and auburn hair and light freckles.

Russia decided to answer truthfully. "Canada helped me. My boss thinks we are having an important 'Nation' meeting today, tomorrow, and the day after."

The girl laughed. "Sera, by the way." She tipped her head back. "SASHA! RUSSIA'S HERE!"

A very out of breath ten-year-old appeared very quickly.

"Hello!" He gasped out. A shorter girl poked her head out from behind him.

Her tanned skin and black hair stood out against Alexander's paleness and silvery blonde hair.

"Lani Jones, Hawaii." She clarified. Her dark hair fell into her eyes as she extended her hand for him to shake.

Alexander held open the door.  
\------------  
Russia had never seen a livelier family. There was still tension with America, but they both knew this Cold War would be over soon.

Florida was a little edgy around him, she relaxed as Alexander kept bouncing around him.

During dinner, Russia asked a question that had been bothering him since he heard Alaska's full name.

"Was Alaska by any chance named after Alexander Romanov?" He asked America. "The first or second?" He added.

America opened his mouth and was interrupted by New York.

"America didn't name Alaska." She squared her shoulders. "And frankly, I knew basically nothing about Russian Royalty, so no." She looked over towards Alaska. "He was named after Alexander Hamilton."

Half of the states, Canada, Prussia and America groaned.

"Who?" Russia asked.

"Ten-dollar bill." Brooke sighed.

"He was an American Revolutionary." Sera further clarified from her spot on America's right. It was a little strange seeing a fifteen-year-old in a tie and blazer, but Russia had gotten over it.

He smiled at Alexander, who smiled back.

(From that year on, Russia always received a Thanksgiving invitation.)

 **December 27, 1983**  
**Moscow, Russia**  
What does one get for their kid's 25th Anniversary of Statehood? Russia wondered.

According to Sera, who had been the one to write the invitation and accompanying letter and send it to him, the states treated their 'Anniversaries of Statehood' like birthdays, except less presents (apparently, they saved those for Christmas).

But since this was the first of Alexander's birthdays that Russia was attending, he wanted to get him something.

The problem was that he had no idea  _what_ to get him.

So here he was. About to use the red telephone* to ask what he should get his son for his birthday.

Russia sighed and picked up the phone.

"Pentagon." Came the near immediate reply.

"Ivan Braginski for Miss Seraphina Jones." Russia answered back. "She works for the President." He further clarified.

"Sir, may I ask the meaning for this call?"

"It's a matter of diplomacy." Russia answered.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Miss Seraphina Jones is in a closed meeting, sir, she cannot be reached." Russia frowned. "But I have a Miss Elizabeth Jones here who says she is her sister."

"First Lieutenant!" Came the snapped reply on the Washington side of the phone call.

"Excuse me, First Lieutenant Elizabeth Jones."

"Put her on, please." Russia responded

The phone was handed over. "Hello, Ivan."

"Ginny."

"I was informed this was a matter of diplomacy?"

"I don't know what to get Alexander for his birthday." Russia told her.

The line went silent.

"Oh my god, you're serious. You actually used the hotline because you don't know what to get Alexander."

"I don't know what he likes." Russia pointed out.

Ginny sighed. "Sasha likes books, and he likes music." She paused. "You really don't have to get him anything, though. I'm pretty sure that just you being there would make him happy. He seems to basically hero-worship you."

Russia might have preened a little at that last comment but ignored it in favor of asking Ginny again. "Alexander likes books and music? What kind?"

Ginny sighed again. "Mostly he reads fairy tales. Dad had this old book he got from Arthur a long time ago, and we've all read it at least once. Sasha loves the thing. And he likes classical music, Penny's trying to teach him to play the piano."

Russia squeezed more information out of Ginny for another forty minutes before hanging up.

He knew what to get Alexander now.

 **January 3, 1984**  
**Virginia**  
Russia held out a wrapped box in front of a very surprised Alaska.

Alexander blinked. Then looked up. "For me?" He pointed to himself.

Russia smiled. "Of course."

Alexander took the package and lead the way to the couch, where he pulled at the silver and blue ribbons holding the box shut.

Inside were several European and Asian collections of fairy tales (China, Italy and France had all been very surprised to receive Russia's phone call.) and several sheets of music (Austria had been particularly puzzled about the phone call inquiring in to classical music) Specifically, sheet music for the piano.

Alaska flung himself into Russia's arms. "Thank you, it's wonderful."

 **June 17, 1984**  
**Virginia**  
Russia had never heard the words "other dad" used before.

It was a little shocking when he was casually informed by Leo (Puerto Rico) that that's what he was to Alaska.   
\----------  
"Really?"

Massachusetts flipped into hand stand, balancing perfectly on the see-saw. "Well, yeah. I mean what else would we call them? All the good insulting ones are too human. Although, ever refer to England as my other dad and I'll hit you."   
\----------  
"How would we know how it works?" Maryland scoffed. "It just does."  
\----------  
Virginia shrugged. "It's probably because you colonized him first."   
\----------  
Alaska smiles at him, Russia's eyes and America's smile,   
\----------  
Russia almost cries when he learns that Alaska is the only state who has ever requested to hyphenate his surname.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> *it was actually the Moscow-Washington hotline and not a phone  
> EDITED- 8/19/17


End file.
